


In the Shadow of Your Heart, It's the Only Way I Can Escape

by stevie_RST



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Buried Alive, Enemies to Lovers, Everybody Lives, I promise nobody dies, Knife Throwing, M/M, Magician Remus, Magicians, Nobody is Dead, Non-Linear Narrative, Non-Sexual Bondage, POV Alternating, POV Remus Lupin, POV Sirius Black, Remus is sort of based on Houdini, Rivals to Lovers, Sort Of, Strangers to Lovers, Tattoos, escape artist Remus, magician Sirius, sort of a The Prestige au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevie_RST/pseuds/stevie_RST
Summary: The lights glittered upon the stage, dust particles floating, the light catching on the shiny buttons of the man’s jacket. The boards creaked as he strutted across them, a faint sound only heard if you were listening for it. The heavy velvet curtains hung on either side of the stage framing whatever spectacle was to occur.Or where two sort-of rival magicians perform on stage, confront mortality, and realize that past passion can be present love.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29
Collections: RS Fix It Fest 2020





	In the Shadow of Your Heart, It's the Only Way I Can Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the Fixit Fest mods for running this very fun fest and for being so helpful and understanding! And thank you to everyone in the Fixit Fest discord who helped me brainstorm ideas, and gave encouragement, and for all just being great!! 
> 
> And thank you so much to the numerous people who betaed this fic for me in some capacity (I think there were like five of you), who I will credit here properly after reveals! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this highly self-indulgent fic I wrote because I needed rival Victorian magician Remus and Sirius to exist. And it gave me an excuse to rewatch _The Prestige_ multiple times and research a bunch about Harry Houdini.
> 
> Title is a smash up of lyrics from two different Florence + the Machine songs ("Cosmic Love" and "Never Let Me Go"). Seeing as Florence + the Machine was my soundtrack while writing most of this fic, it seemed fitting.

**Prologue**

No one cared about the opening of a trick,—well that’s not entirely accurate, but let’s be honest—everyone was there for the resolution of a trick, _the prestige_. The ending, that is what everyone craved, magician and audience alike. The energy and enthusiasm of clapping and cheering. The ending of a story. 

Yet magicians and audiences both had to make it through the pledge and the turn to even make it to the prestige. Because, every story has a beginning, middle, and end. That however, does not mean all stories are told in order. 

Even seen a million times, one rarely tired of a magic trick, especially if they didn’t know how it was achieved. This notion can be similarly applied to stories. Some stories can be read multiple times without the reader knowing all of the details. And details can be finicky. They say that the devil is in the details for a reason, perhaps the same reason that they say only _lies_ have details.

\--------------------

The lights glittered upon the stage, dust particles floating, the light catching on the shiny buttons of the man’s jacket. The boards creaked as he strutted across them, a faint sound only heard if you were listening for it. The heavy velvet curtains hung on either side of the stage framing whatever spectacle was to occur. 

The man on stage muttered to himself. The theatre was empty, but soon to be full in an hour's time. However, unbeknownst to the man onstage, one seat was occupied. A set of eyes followed the man’s form as he paced across the stage.

* * *

* * *

**London, Autumn 1900**

The casket was lowered into the ground as a crowd looked on. Hardly anyone spoke. The atmosphere was tense. It was an overcast day, grey and dreary, with a perpetual mist that made everything feel damp, but not fully wet. The ground was dry enough, at least there was no mud to stand in or dig through. The air felt heavy with everyone’s unsaid thoughts and feelings.

Sirius couldn’t look away. He stood on the fringes of the gathered crowd, for once trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible which was the opposite of his nature. His top hat was in his hands, a white-knuckled grip on the brim. He didn’t even know why he was there to be honest. Why did he care so damn much? 

But he _cared_. He cared because he loved him. The man he loved was in a casket being lowered into the bloody ground. And he only just now realized he loved him. He absently realized he was panicking, but it wouldn’t do any good, everything was out of his hands. 

How did he even get here?

\--------------------

**London, Spring 1899**

Remus stepped off the boat and couldn’t stop thinking how strange it was to be back on English soil. It felt like home, but not at the same time. England never really felt like home, at least not after his parents had died. It was an ache he still carried years later, and yet he was excited to be back in England under better circumstances than when he left. He could even admit his excitement bordered on happiness. Things weren’t always easy and he still possessed quite a pessimistic outlook, but he did have reasons to be happy. 

He now had a fairly successful magic act, finally successful enough to be invited to perform on a London stage instead of a French or American circus tent. He also had a lovely assistant, as the phrase went, who had also become his closest friend and confidant. He would have been lost without Nymphadora and they both knew it. 

As he forced himself to think about his fortunes rather than his misgivings, Remus made his way through the crowd of people milling around the docks and looked for Dora as they somehow lost each other in the crowd after departing the boat—Remus figured he must have gotten caught up in his head as he was wont to do. Once he found her, they made their way arm-in-arm to the theater with smiles on their faces.

* * *

* * *

**Essex, 1887**

Sirius was biding his time. He just wanted to leave. He never wanted to be the heir, he was just cursed with being born first. And tradition was of the utmost importance in the Black family, even if his parents did despise him. But he knew that his younger brother Regulus would make a better future Earl. Regulus was also not outspoken or deviant the way Sirius was, but he also wasn’t awful like their parents were. Regulus’ only vice was occasionally indulging a little too much in wine or whiskey. But it was hardly something to fault or think much of. 

Sirius on the other hand knew what his parents thought of him and his extracurricular activities. Drinking and gambling were the least of it, when they were often done with another man sitting on his lap. There were quite a few inconspicuous clubs and gambling houses that catered to men like him. 

And after all that, he never expected his life to turn out the way it did.

\--------------------

**London, 1887**

Remus may have picked the wrong pocket. Or the right one depending on the events that followed. It wasn’t everyday that a viscount chased you down alleyways himself. Even more out of the ordinary that he was able to keep up with Remus and corner him. Remus was shocked and imagined that the viscount must have been more familiar with the back streets of London than he should have been, which was interesting. 

Remus was shoved against the stone wall of an alley. His back hit it with a dull thud, and the handsome viscount—he had to be the son of a duke or an earl dressed like that—pressed closely into him and grabbed his wrists. They were both breathing heavily after the chase. He raised an eyebrow, “I think you took something that isn’t yours,” 

“I don’t know what you mean, _my lord_ ,” Remus added with a smirk. The viscount seemed to be watching his face a bit too intently and Remus had a feeling he might be interested in more than just the return of his pocket watch. 

The viscount raised his eyebrow even further, if that was possible, “I’m sure that you do.” 

Remus tilted his head and tried to look seductive, like he saw exactly where the man’s eyes had lingered. “Why don’t you take what you want then?” 

Which was when the man surged forward and kissed Remus square on the mouth. 

Remus’ eyes widened momentarily, his fists clenched at his sides, his wrists still held by the other man. And then he kissed back. Once the other man let go of Remus’ wrists, they gripped each other in a passionate embrace. 

“And here I thought you just wanted your watch back,” Remus panted. 

“You can keep the bloody watch. Just...just come back with me? Somewhere private. There are rooms at the club. Or my family’s house.” Remus looked at him as if he was insane. 

“No one’s there,” he assured. “Just me. Well and some staff and my valet, but they won’t tattle. Just...I won’t let you get in trouble.” 

Remus hesitated for a moment. He looked into the earnest grey eyes of the man in front of him. The man who chased him through back streets for his watch, but took a kiss instead. 

It wasn’t everyday that a pickpocket fell into the bed of the same viscount at the end of it all. 

“What may I call you?” The man asked once they made it to a grand London house and were in a room that Remus presumed belonged to the man after sneaking in through the servants entrance and up the narrow back stairs. 

“Moony.” 

“That can’t be your real name.” 

“But you didn’t ask for my name, you asked what you could call me, and I told you.” Remus hoped he looked smug as he said it, it was fun to tease this man. 

“Touché. In that case, you may call me Padfoot.” 

“Padfoot?” It was Remus’ turn to raise an eyebrow. 

“A silly nickname bequeathed to me at boarding school. And, I believe I was quick enough to keep up with you, so it must hold some truth.” 

“Well, _Lord_ Padfoot.” The man—Padfoot, chuckled. “It seems you were able to keep up with me running through streets, but will you be able to do so under these sheets?” Remus asked as he sat himself on the bed and rubbed his hands over the soft duvet. 

Padfoot walked toward Remus where he was now reclined on the bed. “Well, _Moony_ , I intend to find out.” He then closed the distance between them and crawled on top of Remus on the bed.

They did eventually make their way under the sheets. Which is how Remus found himself tangled in the sheets sated and spent. Padfoot was rubbing random patterns onto the skin of his shoulders, his back, his thigh, with one hand while he occasionally brought a cigarette to his lips with the other. 

Remus turned his head to watch Padfoot blow smoke into the room. It made him look...magical. His kiss-red lips. His long, thin fingers. The smoke swirling in the air. Remus didn’t expect to be so mesmerized. 

Remus just stared. He eventually reached out and ran the backs of his fingers along the outside of Padfoot’s thigh. The man sighed in response. And from one moment to the next Remus must have fallen asleep again. The next thing he knew he was waking up and Padfoot was asleep beside him. 

Remus carefully removed himself from a tangle of limbs and sheets and sat on the edge of the bed. He then ran his hand along the pocket watch where it rested on the nightstand. It really was a gorgeous pocket watch, the craftsmanship impeccable. Remus debated whether to take it or not as he collected his scattered clothes and dressed as quietly as possible. He sighed and looked over his shoulder at the man still asleep on expensive sheets, his dark hair a stark contrast against his pale skin. 

Remus left the pocket watch. 

And the man in the bed.

\--------------------

A week after he slept with Moony, Sirius wished he could write him a thank you note for being among the many reasons Sirius was finally disinherited. He should have buggered a bloke in his room sooner if that was the outcome. 

In his almost giddy excitement about no longer being the heir to the noble and most ancient house of Black, Sirius did actually write a letter to Moony. Not that he would be able to send it, but he could at least write it. 

After writing the letter to Moony, Sirius placed it in his leather bound ledger. He then proceeded to write to his best mate James as well as his Uncle Alphard while he had his stationary out. He knew that Uncle Alphard would support him, but he also hadn’t talked to the man in a while as his parents often limited their communication. Good thing he no longer needed to listen to Lord and Lady Black. 

_Moony,_

_I know that chances are I will never see you again, but I felt compelled to tell you—at least a metaphorical you—that I got my wish. One of them at least._

_I am no longer the heir to my wretched family’s estate. I am free in some sense of the word._

_I was sad that you had left before I had even gotten to say goodbye, but I am glad that you were not here for the aftermath. I did not want to pose any risk to you. So I suppose it was all for the best._

_I have no way of getting this letter to you, so I suppose I will stop writing before I embarrass myself. It would be one thing to embarrass myself and send the letter on its way, but it is another thing entirely to embarrass myself and then be the only one to read the letter._

_Yours,_

_Padfoot_

\--------------------

**A month later**

Sirius and James were sat in the lounge of Sirius’ London flat trying to decide on Sirius’ stage name. Every magician needed a moniker to be known by and he needed to come up with something to put on the posters. 

“Sirius the Great? No that’s too boring,” Sirius said, drawing out the word boring as he did. “Hmm, Sirius the Magnificent, that has a nice ring to it. Or The Magnificent Sirius? Oh, what about Sirius the Stellar?” 

James grimaced, removing his spectacles to rub the bridge of his nose. 

“Too much with the star references?” Sirius asked as a follow up to James nonverbal response. 

“Maybe a bit. What about, Sirius the Astonishing? Astounding? Does it have to have your given name in it?” 

“Yes, James, it does,” Sirius stated definitively. 

“The Astronomical? Sirius the Astronomical.” 

Sirius sighed, “How is that any better than ‘stellar’ was?” 

“It wasn’t. We can’t just keep tacking on adjectives to your name to see what sticks. Just pick something, or you’re just gonna have to use your real name and have everyone know Sirius Black, magician.” 

Sirius dramatically sprung up from his chair, as was his habit. “James, I think you’re onto something. I can just imagine my ancestors rolling in their graves. I can see the headlines now ‘Disgraced Black Heir Becomes Most Popular Magician in London.’ Lord and Lady Black will be most perturbed.” 

“Well at least I know what can go on the posters now.” James chuckled.

\--------------------

Sirius and James were practically brothers in every way, but blood. So of course when Sirius wanted to try his hand at actually being a magician, James went along for the ride. They had always been into mischief when they were younger—especially while at boarding school—and the knack seemed to follow them into adulthood. Sirius figured that a magician needed a mischievous streak otherwise what would be the point. 

People always assumed that James was the brains of the whole operation, which wasn’t wrong, but also wasn’t the whole truth. Sirius had the showmanship and the flair for the dramatic as well as a love of attention. He would always claim it was from not receiving attention, or affection, for that matter from his parents in his youth. Being disowned and becoming a magician was probably one of the best things that happened to him. All that being said he was also very intelligent, with a skill for problem solving even if his solutions didn’t always make sense to others. Luckily he and James often seemed to share a brain, as they seemed to possess an innate ability to understand the other. 

Sirius and James came up with the illusions together, while the posters only had Sirius' face on them and he was the one performing on stage each night, James got to have fun tinkering without being in the limelight. It worked for them. James was the only family Sirius really had, and Sirius was the brother James always wanted. 

So Sirius was the magician and James the ingénieur and it worked for them.

* * *

* * *

**London, 1899**

Remus still couldn’t believe that the man standing before him was Sirius Black. That Padfoot and Sirius Black were the same person. He closed his eyes and took a breath as he got flashes of Padfoot laid out naked beneath him in bed. But those were not thoughts to be hand when meeting the man in a professional setting.  
Of course he had known _of_ the Black family as they were a prominent family of nobility and often mentioned in the papers, skirting scandals. But a younger Remus hadn’t been quite so aware, too worried about surviving to care for the politics of the nobility. At the time he hadn’t even known it was the Black family’s London house that he had been inside before. How naive he was, so much for thinking he was hardened by the streets. It’s not like he was actually given the real name of the young viscount he had bedded those years ago. And of course that was his fault for not having given his own name, nothing he could do about that now. But he would know that face anywhere. That long dark hair framing fine aristocratic features.

\--------------------

Remus and Sirius found themselves chatting and catching up as if they were old friends and didn’t only share one night together twelve years earlier. “I was in France for a while, and then America. It sure is a long boat ride. I performed with a traveling circus in France. That’s where I met Dora, well Tonks, that’s what she likes to be called. She’s a contortionist, and well now she’s my assistant.” 

“Tonks, you say. It really is a small world.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Well, I believe a cousin of mine married a man with the surname Tonks. She got booted out of the family for it. I hardly knew her and I was so jealous. Jealous she escaped the wretched Black family before I could. But I guess good things happen to those who wait. Or to those who bugger a bloke in their bed in their family’s London home.”

“You have a peculiar idea of what is considered good. But then again I’ve heard about the Black family here and there and can’t say I blame you for being glad you’re rid of them.”

\--------------------

**London, 1892**

Sirius walked into his favorite club that catered to people like him. It was only known to those who frequented it, to men and women who favored the company of the same sex. Sirius had realized from a fairly young age that he was only attracted to other men, and came to places like this as often as possible and left with many men. 

Which is why it was odd that at the end of the night, he didn’t leave with a man to have sex with, but with a woman who would be his new assistant for his magic act. 

\--------------------

After getting a drink and mingling a bit with some people he recognized, Sirius saw a woman, who frankly looked a bit out of place--her clothes shabby compared to the rest of the clientele, throwing darts with impressive accuracy. He was intrigued. Not to mention she was wearing trousers of the practical rather than fashionable variety. 

“Mind if I join you?” 

The woman turned, a brief look of surprise on her face before her features settled into a more neutral expression, “Oh, of course not.” 

“Well then how about a friendly wager?” 

“Wagers aren’t often friendly.”

“I’m a man of my word, _that_ I can assure you.”

“And why should I trust your word? A man like you talking to a woman like me, you must have an ulterior motive.” Sirius figured she meant the difference in their clothes and perhaps their perceived respective statuses. 

“Darling, you must know where you are. I am not propositioning you if that is what you’re worried about. It is very unlikely that there is a man in here making eyes at you. But the women on the other hand.” 

She huffed. “So what is this wager?” 

“Well, I’m glad you asked. I am looking for a new assistant to accompany me on stage.” 

“On stage?” 

“I’m a magician, you see, and my past assistants haven’t worked out, but I have a good feeling about you.” 

“I see. Are you always so forward with women you have just met?” 

“Perhaps not. But my tongue has been loosened by the alcohol and I am used to speaking freely here. I apologize.” 

“No need. It is a welcome change from how bloody proper everyone is.” 

Sirius laughed, “I’m all for impropriety. But I have been remiss in not introducing myself to you. My name is Sirius,” he bowed slightly, “Sirius Black.” 

The woman held out her hand for a handshake in a very manly fashion, “And I’m Lily.” 

Sirius shook her hand, and being the flirt that he was, kissed the back of it before she removed it from his grip. 

Lily scowled a bit and then crossed her arms, “So back to that wager of yours.” 

“Oh, yes, as I mentioned I’m looking for a new assistant. So I figured we play a round of darts and if I win you agree to my proposition of being my assistant.” 

“And if I win?” 

“That’s up to you, of course.” 

“Well, I’m not sure I want anything. I’m finally in London, that's what I wanted for a long while.”

“Then if you win, I’ll be on my way and won’t try to convince you further.” 

“Alright, we have a deal then,” Lily said, holding out her hand, but Sirius couldn’t help but notice a mischievous look in her eye. 

Sirius nodded, “A deal,” and shook her hand. 

\--------------------

“You’re bloody good at that.” 

“Thank you. I grew up on a farm and my father taught me how to throw an axe. And knives, so darts are simple.” 

“Remind me not to cross you.”

“And when would that happen, seeing as I won.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Sirius said as he finished plucking the darts out of the board. “I’ll be out of your hair then.” Sirius turned to collect his coat and hat to leave. 

“Wait,” Lily called out walking closer to Sirius. “I know you lost the wager. But what if I still want to be your assistant? How about we say that as the winner, I am choosing to be your assistant.” 

“I’d say I’m delighted. To be frank, I am much happier that it is your decision and not just the outcome of a daft wager.” 

“I’ll remind you the wager was your idea.” 

“Well I am quite daft. But I suppose I can make the excuse that it goes hand-in-hand with being a magician.” 

“I can respect a man who admits his daftness.” 

“As long as we can agree on that,” Sirius chuckled. He then pulled a calling card out of his pocket and handed it to Lily. “Why don’t you meet me at that address tomorrow, at let’s say noon. I feel we both need to sleep to recover from this late night.” 

She took the card and put it into her pocket.

\--------------------

**The next day**

As Sirius entered the studio space James immediately put down what he was tinkering with and made his way over to him. 

“I know we’ve been having trouble finding you an assistant. Dorcas didn’t work out and Mary ran off with the bloody circus. But I have a list of candidates. I can set up a schedule for them to come by so you can meet them.” 

“James, take a moment to breathe. I’m here to tell you that I’ve found a solution and by solution I mean I found my next assistant.” 

James looked confused and surprised. “You did? When? How?” 

Sirius nodded a smile on his face, “I did. As for when and how: last night at the club through a friendly game of darts.” 

“Well who is she then?” James asked, his curiosity peaked. 

“One moment,” Sirius held up his finger before leaving the studio the way he came. He gently took Lily’s hand and led her through the door. Once the two were inside the studio, Sirius twirled Lily, causing her to laugh, before introducing her with a dramatic flourish. “May I present, Miss Lily Evans, dart throwing extraordinaire!” Sirius was surprised to see a blush tinting Lily’s cheeks. 

However, he was far less surprised that James’ jaw was hanging open in shock or awe or both. He was probably already smitten. 

Sirius continued with the introductions. He gestured to James, who had managed to compose himself, “Lily, this is James Potter. My right hand man, despite the fact that he is strangely left-handed. He is the engineer of my tricks as well as my best friend.” 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Lily said, extending her hand to him. In some sort of déjà vu, James shook her hand and then kissed the back of it. 

“The pleasure is all mine.” James replied.

Lily rolled her eyes.

* * *

* * *

**London, Summer through Winter 1899**

Over the years, Remus realized that being a magician was the next best thing to being a con artist (or just a lowly pickpocket). Although the more he thought about it, maybe being a magician was actually better than being a con artist. He supposed the jury was still out on that one. 

The sticky fingers of a pickpocket sure did come in handy when making the transition to magician. But old habits die hard, especially when you grew up on the streets and needed to survive somehow. He was good at going unnoticed, and knew how to turn things in his favor if he was noticed. 

Once upon a time he was going to go onto university. Become a professor or a banker or, he wasn’t really sure, his goal had always been professor though. But that was almost in another lifetime at this point. Now he was a magician and a damn good one at that. But the life of a performer was never stable and while he rarely partook in thieving anymore, he wasn’t morally opposed to picking some silk-lined pockets if need be. 

At least now he had made a name for himself. Moony the Magnificent.

\--------------------

“Moony. But no, it’s Moony the Magnificent now,” Sirius huffed a laugh at the cleverness of it all, “Remus. _Lupin_. Oh, you sly devil.” 

“Well, you’re still the handsome one.” 

“You flatter me.” 

“Well you do like your ego stroked...among other things,” Remus replied, lips quirked in a smirk. 

“And you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” 

“I would. Although I am still shocked that we are meeting again.” 

“Yes, what are the odds? And we are both in a profession of the magical persuassian these days.” 

“It’s a small world, indeed.”

\--------------------

The venues were right across the street from each other. It of course made sense, being that it was the theater district. But directly across that street? It had to be some cruel twist of fate. But then again, they were magicians so maybe there was something to be said about thinking about fate. And how to defy it only to have it bite you in the arse. 

Sirius didn’t believe in fate. And he most certainly didn’t believe in luck. But he did believe in opportunity. Like when he saw the opportunity to get away from his family some years ago, he took it. 

His opportunities as a magician were starting to look a little slim though. He still pulled a decent crowd, but Lupin pulled a bigger crowd. In public, Sirius would say how he didn’t see the appeal of the other magician. But in private? In private, Sirius thought the other man was quite appealing. Wasn’t that funny? Not only was he lusting after another man, but said man was supposed to be his rival as well. 

It was funnier still when Sirius met the man and knew for sure that he was the same man he bedded those years ago. 

The pickpocket. 

Moony.

\--------------------

Remus never claimed to be the best. For someone who performed on stage as his profession, he was surprisingly humble. But of course he was the best, so that was besides the point. His humbleness, and his temper, were tested when he had a rival who could keep up with him, or at least pull on his coattails. 

Sirius Black. Yes, of the noble and most ancient house of Black, or at least formerly. The man liked to make sure people understood he was no longer to be associated with his family. Remus didn’t blame him. 

Remus sighed as he untied his bowtie and sat on the sagging bench in front of the vanity.  
He threw the bowtie down and went on to undoing his cufflinks and adding them to the pile. 

He slipped his braces off over his shoulders letting them hang against his legs. Next, he unbuttoned his shirt, stripping it off and adding it to the chair where he had shucked his tailcoat and waistcoat. Once he was only in his trousers, and undershirt he ran his hands through his hair, dishevelling its slicked back look, his natural curls coming free. 

A pair of slim arms wrapped around his shoulders making him jolt at the unexpected touch. Unexpected for the fact that he should have expected it. He looked up and caught his assistant’s eyes in the vanity mirror. 

“Sulking again are we?” she asked, an eyebrow raised in question.

“I am not sulking, Dora.” 

“Well, brooding then,” she quipped, “And you have got to stop bloody calling me Dora.” 

“I don’t get what respectable lady would want to be called ‘Tonks,’ but then again you aren’t really a respectable lady are you?” He replied with a smirk. Tonks just scoffed and whacked him on the arm. 

Remus chuckled in response standing as she pushed him out of the way to commandeer the vanity. Remus took it in stride and walked over to the table in the corner and poured himself a drink from the decanter. He slumped into the green velvet armchair that was close by, watching Tonks as she unpinned accessories from her hair adding hair pins to the deterius on the vanity. 

Remus zoned out not realizing that Tonks was trying to talk to him until she was sitting on the arm of his chair. 

“You really are stuck in your head aren’t you? One can only wonder why. Might you be thinking about my cousin?” Tonks asked as she leaned against the back of the chair, still seated on the arm. 

“I still cannot believe you two are related,” Remus said in a bored voice. 

“Distantly, it’s not like I know him. Technically I’m his first cousin once removed or something. Now give me that,” Tonks said as she took the glass out of Remus’ hand and threw it back in one gulp. 

Remus stared, it was equal parts shock and annoyance, “I was drinking that you know?” 

Tonks giggled, “We don’t need tipsy Remus, he only gets more maudlin than regular old Remus.” 

His reply was to grab the cigarette case off of the table and dig into his trouser pocket for his lighter to light it, leaning into Tonks as he did so. They had the familiar relationship that a brother and sister would. 

With the cigarette hanging out of his mouth he said, “well if I’m not to drink I may as well exchange it for another vice.” He puffed on the cigarette for a few moments. In his mind’s eye, all Remus could see was the sensual curve of Padfoot, well, Sirius’ body as he blew smoke rings as they laid in bed. 

Remus waved a hand through the wafting smoke, trying to clear it away as well as the memory that came with it. He was a sap and he knew it. Way too sentimental for someone who had spent time on the streets. But then again his mother always said he was sensitive. He frowned down at the cigarette between his fingers and held it out to Tonks, “Here, take it, I forget how much I only tolerate these things nowadays.” 

Tonks gladly took a few drags of the cigarette before leaning over Remus and stubbing it out in a discarded tea cup. She then stood up and stretched her lithe arms above her head. “You should go home, some sleep would do you good.” 

“I suppose, considering someone will not let me drink myself into a stupor.” He quickly changed topics, “Would you like me to walk you home?” 

“I suppose,” she snarked back, “considering I’m supposed to be a _lady_ or something resembling one.”

\--------------------

“Did I really not mention that I’m related to the Blacks?” Tonks asked. 

“No, you didn’t. But of course how were you to know that even mattered to me. I didn’t even know. He never gave me his real name and I didn’t pay much attention to the goings on of the upper classes. I was too busy stealing to feed Ma.”

\--------------------

“So, does everyone think you’re in love with your assistant then?” Sirius asked, he figured it was a good way to gauge whether or not Remus was actually involved with his assistant. Sirius also hoped it would help him figure out if Remus would again be open to a sexual relationship with a man again, with him again. 

“What?” 

“Everyone thinks I’m in love with mine. That there is some secret romance. When really she is married to my ingénieur. Basically my sister-in-law now.” 

“No. Tonks is like my sister as well. She happens to have a paramour of her own back in Paris.”

\--------------------

Remus had been with the circus for a few years now. The other performers had become his pseudo family, yet he still never felt fully at home. He was a bit tired of the traveling part of a traveling circus. He longed to be back in England despite the lack of ties he had there. Maybe someday he would make his way back, but for now he had a show to prepare for. 

He went through the motions of dressing for the performance, the suit just a little too flashy for his personal taste, as it felt too much like a costume. But he was meant to fit in with the other performers in their brightly colored, glittering glory. 

As much as he complained about certain aspects of being a part of the circus, there were some positive things to note. One of the biggest positives being that he met Nymphadora Tonks. She was a contortionist and a damn good one at that, she had a wicked sense of humor too that Remus wasn’t used to women possessing. Most importantly, she was Remus’ first true friend. She knew all about him and he knew about her. 

They bonded very quickly and Remus did initially worry that Tonks had feelings for him, but it was very quickly proved otherwise when Remus caught Tonks and Fleur, the daughter of the ringmaster, in a discreet club while they were in Paris. Tonks was wearing trousers and a suit jacket with Fleur seated on her lap and whispering in her ear. It pleased Remus to know that Tonks had someone special, but then also worried him, knowing how difficult it could be. Instead of making a big deal of it, Remus procured a drink and seated himself at their table, he figured saying hello and letting them draw their own conclusions as to why he was also in the club would be best. 

Their friendship became even stronger from that point on. Tonks started assisting him in his performances allowing for him to do more complicated or flashier tricks to enchant the audience. They eventually put Tonks contortionist skills to work in performances and Remus gained popularity as a magician and stunt performer in his own right rather than just as another part of the circus. 

This led to him and Tonks booking more solo shows as more people took interest. Remus only hoped to perform in London one day. If only his parents could have seen him. At least he had Tonks in regard to family. Their onstage partnership was also helpful in keeping away unwanted scrutiny off stage.

* * *

* * *

**London, 1899**

Sirius lived for a crowd. The cheers and laughs of the audience fueled him. He made people think the unimaginable was imaginable. The stage lights added a heat that made his heart beat faster even as he sweat under his stage makeup. Taking his bows was his favorite part of the evening. To be given the attention of an entire theater of people was, in a word, exhilarating. 

He could admit to himself that becoming a magician was an impulsive decision. One brought on by the combined factors of being disinherited from the family, coming into his uncle’s secret fortune, remembering the card tricks said uncle taught him, and wanting to stand on a stage in front of an adoring crowd.

And now, now it felt as if his crowds weren’t as full or enthusiastic. Had he lost his touch? 

A new trick, that’s what Sirius needed. Something to wow the audience. But trying something new could also be risky. It would take time and practice, two things that Sirius loathed. He hated waiting and prefered to be off the cuff and unpredictable, granted much of his act was practiced to seem unpredictable. 

“He’s taking all of my audience, James.”

“Then try something new. There are plenty of new tricks for you to do.”

“I shouldn’t have too. I hate that he is here.” 

“You don’t.” 

“Don’t tell me I don’t. I do, I hate it.” 

“Perhaps, but I’m sure other parts of your body would be inclined to disagree.” 

“Ugh,” Sirius ripped his cravat from around his neck and dramatically sunk into the divan. 

“I meant your heart, by the way. Although…” 

Sirius threw a withering look at James.

\--------------------

Sirius burst into Remus’ dressing room. “Are you alright?” 

Remus raised an eyebrow. His hair was damp and he was still only wearing his bathing costume. “Checking up on the competition? I do have experience doing this you know.”

“I do. But you didn’t answer my question.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Right, good.” Sirius cleared his throat and tried to collect himself, having only just realized how heavily he was breathing and he wasn’t the one who was underwater and upside down only minutes ago. 

It wasn’t only that he didn’t understand how Remus did such tricks, it was that he didn’t understand _why_ he did such tricks. Why would anyone want to do such dangerous tricks? Sirius didn’t know. Sure he was a bit of thrill seeker himself, but nowhere the extent that Remus was. Sirius often wondered if the man had a death wish. And more often than not, Sirius found himself wondering how he could stop it.

Sirius didn’t have a death wish of his own. At least he didn’t think so. He didn’t want to hang upside down while his wrists were handcuffed. He didn’t want to submerge himself in a 400 gallon tank of water and escape it. 

However, he was thinking about letting his assistant throw knives at him on stage, so perhaps he was a bit more reckless than he himself initially thought. But that was beside the point. 

Sirius still didn’t understand why he was so fascinated by Remus. He didn’t want anything to do with the man when he had heard he was coming to London to perform. But of course that was before Sirius found out that Remus the magician who went by Moony the Magnificent and the pickpocket all those years ago who called himself Moony were one in the same.

\--------------------

Sirius could not get his emotions under control. He knew he was an emotional person he always had been and his father tried to beat any sort of sensitivity out of him. But Sirius also had a temper, a nasty one, inherited from his dear old mother. So his anger tended to be...quite explosive. Only rivaled by his kindness and passion which somehow survived eighteen years of being stuck under his mother’s thumb and his father’s fists. 

But right now it wasn’t truly anger he was feeling, he just didn’t want to admit to himself what it actually was. He tried to tell himself it was hatred he felt. And when that didn't work, he kept telling himself it was just lust, purely his body’s response to something, well someone who appealed to him sexually. And that was it. He didn’t actually _care_. 

Except….he did care. He cared tremendously, but didn’t want to show it. Which was how he found himself angrily pacing the length of the lounge in his flat. It was also how James found him when he let himself into the flat nearly an hour later.

\--------------------

_Moony,_

_I am a man of intense feelings, many have told me. Yet I often suffer from an inability to appropriately express the feelings I am experiencing._

_With this letter, I endeavour to make this fact known to you. That certain feelings I have expressed towards you may not be my true feelings._

_Most Sincerely,_

_Padfoot_

\--------------------

“Remus, where did this waistcoat come from? It’s utterly beautiful,” Tonks asked, a hint of awe in her voice, and Remus could imagine her when she would wear men’s clothing, so perhaps the tinge in her voice was actually jealousy. 

“Oh, um, nowhere. That’s nothing special.” 

“It isn’t? You sure? I’d say you have an admirer lavashing you with gifts,” she paused, “Which reminds me that I forgot to write a letter to Fleur,” she said more to herself. 

“Where would you get that idea from? I just wanted to look nice for our next performance.” 

“Remus Lupin, I know when you are lying to me. But,” she gestured at him, “I also know when I can’t pull the truth out of your stubborn self.” With that Tonks left the room in a swirl of skirts and a clomp of her boots. 

_My dearest Padfoot,_

_I apologize that we have not been able to cross paths recently. Who knew this profession would take up so much time? But I am in good company, at least figuratively. Thank you for the gift, I’ll be sure to wear it soon._

_Your Moony_

\--------------------

Remus stood on the stage in a simple black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, the only extravagance being the brocade waistcoat he wore. The sleeves of his suit jacket and shirt were pushed up to reveal his forearms. It was nothing extravagant or flashy. It was nice enough and finely tailored, but simple nonetheless. But of course other spectators were not examining the details of his outfit choice. Their eyes were focused on the numerous sets of handcuffs and manacles that bound his wrists together, as well as the matching shackles around his ankles. 

This was only the set up for his magic trick, again more of a stunt really. In the next moment, the shackles around Remus’ ankles were hooked to a thick chain that was on some sort of pulley—James would have been able to explain the apparatus better than Sirius was—and he eventually ended up in the air. Hanging by his ankles, of course. 

Sirius wondered if more fun could have been had with handcuffs if the situation involved a bed and a lot less clothing. Sirius mused: would Remus let him shackle his hands to the headboard of his bed? But perhaps that wasn’t what he should be thinking about while Remus was handcuffed and suspended upside down over the stage, his audience enraptured as they craned their necks looking up, Sirius among them. But Sirius had quite the imagination and it was difficult to dispel the thought from his mind.

He wanted to feel Remus’ calloused hands on his body, to feel fingers tracing the shapes of his tattoos. He wanted to run his own hands along Remus’ body, to feel his hard muscles, the thick hair on his chest and legs. He wanted to feel days old stubble scraping against his own, or elsewhere on his body for that matter.

\--------------------

“Okay, I have an idea for a new trick,” Sirius said as he barged into the studio where James was working on...something, he didn’t remember. 

“Sirius, that’s great! I knew you would come up with something. Just tell me what I need to start working on.” 

“That’s the thing, I don’t think I need you to do anything for it. I just need to run it by Lily.” 

“I’m going to regret asking what this new trick is aren’t I?” 

“Um, perhaps.” 

James preemptively pulled his spectacles off his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose before asking, “Well, what’s the new trick?” 

“Knife throwing.” Sirius answered, surprised that James didn’t happen to faint. 

“But that is actually dangerous. Neither of you throw knives. You don’t,” James said in a hard voice, and then in a more inquisitive tone, “Do you?” 

“Well… you know I met Lily while she was throwing darts, rather impressively I might remind you. She’s quite good with knives too.” 

“What?” 

“We’ve been practicing and she’s even been teaching me.” 

“Sirius! You can’t throw knives at Lily on stage. Absolutely no way!” 

“You don’t have much say in the matter. It’s not like the woman has even accepted your attempts at courting her.” 

“She will one day, I know it. But don’t change the subject. You cannot throw knives at her.” 

“If you would let me finish explaining, you would know that I wasn’t planning on it. Lily will be throwing the knives at me!” 

“I’m not sure that is something to be excited about.” 

“Oh, but it is. It’s great framing for the trick. It isn’t quite a trick so much as a stunt, but the audience won’t know that. They will see a girl in a glittering outfit throwing sharp objects, and a magician who is able to magically control them.” 

Sirius clapped his hands in delight. 

James hung his head in exasperation.

\--------------------

Well, apparently Remus had never seen himself as being in competition with Sirius, but with himself. He admitted to Sirius, in a letter no less, that the only magician he was trying to better was himself. That classic conflict of man versus self. Sirius was trying to one him up for _nothing_. Sirius could not believe this, Remus was his rival. Their history and the fact that Sirius was in awe of the man didn’t mean that they weren’t rivals. But apparently Remus held nothing against him and believed their shows were different enough that they weren’t competing for an audience. 

Of course, Sirius’ way of dealing with these thoughts was to throw knives at a poster advertising Remus’ performance that he pilfered from the board in a pub. And in spite of his swirling thoughts of anger and ineptitude, Sirius was proud that he could say his knife throwing skills had improved as he managed to avoid hitting Remus’ face printed on the poster. Afterall, he still lusted after the man, just looking at his likeness on a poster was its own torture. 

Sirius kept throwing as his thoughts spiralled until he ran out of knives and had to wretch them out of the wall. Good thing there was now a poster, albeit a bit tattered, to cover up the newly made grooves in the wood.

\--------------------

**London, Summer 1900**

Sirius made another dove disappear and then reappear, the audience oohing and aahing in fascination, unaware that another dove just met an untimely end for their amusement. While smiling on stage, Sirius made a mental note to remove the disappearing dove trick from his act.

Too much death or talk of death was becoming too much for him. With Remus talking about the new trick he was planning, the risk of death weighed heavily on Sirius’ mind. Perhaps he could ensure Remus’ life if he made sure no more birds lost their lives for a performance, a sort of tit-for-tat.

\--------------------

Remus was about to try his newest and riskiest trick yet. He was always trying new things. It was a personality trait that people were sometimes shocked he possessed. Perhaps because his curiosity and willingness to try new things was not accompanied by impulsivity. He was a risk taker, but also a strategic thinker. But there was a small voice in his head, that sounded eerily like his dead mother, that had him hesitating. 

Was this trick worth it? 

Was it truly worth the risk that went along with it? 

He wasn’t quite sure anymore. 

He often thought about his own mortality and how insignificant he was as an individual in the grand scheme of history, in the passage of time. He was not afraid to die, but that didn’t mean he wanted to. He saw his lack of fear for dying as a way of embracing life. He wanted to take all the chances he could to prove to himself that he could do things. He rarely cared about other people’s opinions, but still as a human being, a small sliver of him did care. And there were few other human beings whose opinions he actually valued. 

Perhaps burying himself alive and attempting to escape shouldn’t be called a trick at all and should only be called foolish. But he never claimed not to be a foolish man, in fact he would admit to being a fool many times in his life. But he couldn’t help thinking that his being a fool often had to do with Sirius. Of course his thoughts circled back to Sirius. Even in his own mind he couldn’t escape (so much for being an escape artist) the other man, and whether that was a good thing or a bad thing he was still unsure.

\--------------------

Remus sat in the audience, like any other theater goer as if he wasn’t more accustomed to be on stage instead, and watched Sirius’ act. He was thoroughly charmed by Sirius’ energy and charisma. No one could deny that Sirius was a man who had presence in every sense of the word. He knew how to capture the audience’s attention and leave them guessing. Remus even found himself fooled, at least momentarily, by a trick or two which seemed an impressive feat to him being that he was also a magician and less prone to being fooled by misdirection. Perhaps it was Sirius that distracted him. The man was a sight to behold and Remus now understood why people used words like “splendid” and “spectacular” to describe him.

\--------------------

Remus finally understood why Sirius kept showing up to check on him after his performances (Remus hadn’t even realized Sirius watched his act so often when time permitted). Watching Sirius’ assistant, Lily, he believed her name was, throwing knives at Sirius, for them to land in the wooden board behind him was quite nerve wracking. Remus was certain he was literally sitting on the edge of his seat. 

At the end of the performance, Remus managed to sneak his way backstage, it wasn’t a difficult feat for him being skilled at misdirection, plus almost every theater was the same. Once backstage, Remus located Sirius’ dressing room by following the sounds of indistinct conversation that traveled through the corridor. 

The door to the dressing room was opened halfway and Remus slipped inside without knocking. He was met with a smirk on Sirius’ lips as their eyes locked in the mirror Sirius was sat in front of. 

There was another man sat in a chair in the corner, and Remus knew this was James, Sirius’ friend and ingenieur. He spotted Remus after Sirius didn’t reply to the question he asked as he was still smirking at Remus’ reflection in the mirror. 

James stood up then, adjusting his sleeves and the front of his suit jacket as he did so. “It seems it is time for me to go, I need to congratulate my wife on her performance,” he said as he strode the few steps to the door where Remus was still standing in the partially open doorway. 

“That was quite the performance,” Remus said once they were alone in the room as he shut the door behind him. 

Sirius finally turned around on the dressing table bench to face Remus, “I was trying something new. There happens to be another magician I need to keep up with. He is terribly talented, but a bit more of a thrill seeker than I am.” 

“Is that right?” 

Sirius stood up and slowly approached Remus where he was leaning against the closed door, hand still resting on the doorknob. 

Once he was standing in front of Remus, Sirius hummed, “It is.” And in a lower voice added, “He is also dreadfully handsome.” He then gently pried Remus’ hand off of the doorknob. Remus allowed him to do so and turned his hand around in Sirius’ grip so that they were essentially holding hands. 

Sirius pushed forward causing Remus to lean more heavily against the door. Remus breathed out a sigh as Sirius put his mouth to his ear to whisper, “How the tables have turned. You were worried about me.” 

Remus didn’t give Sirius a chance to say anything more. He pulled his hand from Sirius’ and with his hands on Sirius’ shoulders, he shoved Sirius back and spun him around. He shoved Sirius up against the wall, hard enough for an audible thud to be heard when back met wall accompanied by a grunt from Sirius. Remus roughly gripped the lapels of Sirius' jacket as Sirius’ hands grasped at his waist. 

“You are absolutely insufferable,” Remus growled, letting a breath out through his nose as he nipped a trail up the side of Sirius’ neck. 

“You love it,” Sirius moaned. He leaned his head to the side as Remus continued to nip and kiss his neck. 

Remus removed a hand from Sirius’ lapel, the fabric left slightly crumpled, and moved it to roughly grip Sirius’ hair. 

Sirius whined at the action, panting as he closed his eyes and tried to pull Remus even closer to his body. Remus finally pulled his lips away from Sirius’ neck to finally kiss him on the lips. Sirius immediately deepened the kiss into something bordering obscene as Remus pulled his hair. 

The kiss Sirius pressed to Remus' lips an hour later before he turned to leave was the complete opposite, a sweet, chaste press of lips. Remus just hoped there would be more kisses like that.

* * *

* * *

**London, Autumn 1900**

Remus was standing in front of the vanity in Sirius’ studio, his strong arms braced against the surface, when Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus’ bare waist from behind. He nosed along the line of his shoulder and inhaled his scent. Remus leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut as a sigh found its way out of his mouth. 

Remus lifted one tense arm off of the vanity top and raised his hand to tangle in Sirius’ hair. Taking that as encouragement, Sirius trailed his hand down Remus abdomen, lightly running his fingertips back and forth on his soft yet scarred skin. 

Remus gently tugged on Sirius’ hair to get his attention so he could turn around in Sirius’ arms. Once turned around so they were face to face, Remus’ face softened and he draped his arms over Sirius’ shoulders. 

Remus relished in the roughness of Sirius’ hands on his body and the contrast between them and the soft silk of Sirius’ shirt against his own naked torso. Sirius’ calloused hands grounded him and made him feel safe, a feeling he didn’t often give much thought to. It had been a long time since he felt safe in someone’s arms (that weren’t Dora’s or his mother’s before she passed). But Remus was safe. He had, perhaps miraculously, survived his riskiest trick yet. It didn’t quite go to plan, but Remus could say he survived being buried alive, something that he was assured not many could say. Who knew that burying yourself alive could make you fear death even when you didn’t previously? 

Remus had been surprised to look up into Sirius’ face after he was pulled from the dirt, but there he was kneeing in the dirt next to Dora, with Frank and Peter (Remus’ stagehands) not far behind.

There was so much unmasked emotion of Sirius’ face that Remus was sure he had been dreaming. Really it was the adrenaline and lack of oxygen that made him a bit confused and lightheaded. He even passed out for a bit and when he woke up, Sirius was hovering over him, and he found himself laid out on a soft fainting couch, how apropo, instead of the hard dirt. Once Remus opened his eyes, Sirius gently cupped his face as if he was porcelain and prone to shattering. It was a ridiculous notion to Remus, but one he cherished nonetheless.

\--------------------

One of the biggest differences between Sirius all those years ago, when to Remus he had just been Padfoot, a lonely viscount, a memory, and Sirius the magician (or Sirius of now) was the tattoos. It was the most noticeable difference aside from the subtle change in features as years had gone by, at least when Remus saw him without his clothes on. There were of course some changes in Sirius’ general presence and attitude, but the biggest physical change was the tattoos. 

During his time in the circus, Remus had seen many tattooed men, and women for that matter. The idea of it fascinated him, but he had quite an irrational fear of needles so never pursued being tattooed himself. 

Seeing the dark ink on Sirius’ pale skin for the first time was equal to a religious experience in Remus’ mind. They were revealed piece by piece as Sirius undressed and Remus wasn’t able to take his eyes off of them. Dark runes down his chest, with some swirling shapes to accompany them. 

And his back. On Sirius’ back there were the phases of the moon, in a straight line down his spine. Remus _knew_ those moon phases couldn’t have had a connection to him, but he still hoped they might have. He would later learn that they did.

* * *

* * *

**Epilogue - 1920**

They were both trying something new again, but together this time. A shared performance. A show that starred both of them. To show that they were gentlemen and above the so-called rivalry. It also drew a very large and very enthusiastic crowd.

\--------------------

There was a photo of Remus, Sirius, and Tonks that sat on the desk in the lounge of Remus’ flat. It was an old photo, coincidentally it had to be twenty years old. “My love and my best mate” was written on the back of the photo and despite the fact that it was hidden while framed, Remus enjoyed knowing the sentiment was there.

Remus loved that he was able to display a photograph of himself and Sirius, without the need to worry about it. Sure it was tiresome that the assumption was of Tonks being his lover and Sirius his friend, while in actuality it was the other way around, but he didn’t want the question of why there were so many photos of him and Sirius when people other than close friends came calling.

As if that fact that he and Sirius lived together didn’t make things obvious enough already. Yet, people were often willing to overlook the things they didn’t understand, and that was just fine by Remus. 

He and Sirius both lived through a lot in their lives and still had a bit more living to do.

\--------------------

Sirius walked into the lounge only to find his love gazing at a photo, that photo in particular, as he often did. Sirius too enjoyed it as a visible token of their love, even if Tonks was featured as well. If having his cousin in the photo allowed them to display the photo he would request her presence in a million more. 

He walked across the lounge to stand behind Remus, he gently placed a hand on Remus’ back so as not to startle him and snaked his arms around Remus torso once the other man was aware of his presence. 

“Hello, my love.” 

“Hmm, hello, fancy seeing you here,” Remus hummed in reply as he leaned back into Sirius’ embrace, his head resting on Sirius’ shoulder. 

“It is,” Sirius chuckled. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Remus’ lips. “It is.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
